Chosen cookie for work in progress
by Goldfish Slayer
Summary: Set post Chosen, in Cleveland. The story of a new group of Slayers and demon hunters. Note: This is just a small cookie for a plot idea that I have.


Eve sat at the bus stop, feeling the wind blow her raven black hair onto her face. She shuddered as she felt a cold chill pass through her. She turned round and looked to the sun and realised, with dread, that she only had a few minutes before darkness enclosed her. She sighed. 'Stupid bus service…' she muttered under her breath, achieving only a confused look from a little blonde girl of about five years old. 

She looked up at the departure board, and saw that it was delayed by a further three minutes. She knew that the sun would be down by then, and she realised that she had to make a decision. She would either take the risk of staying here longer, or go back home for another night. Both prospects were daunting. She remembered her mother's face, the burning hatred in her eyes, and decided to wait. After all, death couldn't be _that _bad.

She looked around the dingy bus stop, and gulped. There was a poster clipped onto the wall, claiming that somebody called Karen Stevenson was missing. Eve looked at the girl in the poster. She was with a group of friends and she had a large smile on her young looking face. She looked so full of life…

Her friends claimed that she had been gone since she went out to get some pizza on the 3rd of March. She had been sighted last walking away from the take-away at 7:30 pm. Eve knew very well what must've happened to her, and she knew that if the bus didn't come soon, the very same fate would happen to her. 

Eve looked behind her again, and saw that there was barely a minute before the sun would set. Eve checked her bag yet again. The sight of the piece of wood was somewhat comforting to her, even though she had no idea how to combat a vampire. She was a Slayer, yes, but hardly a good one.

She moved her stake from her bag to the pocket in her large, dowdy grey hooded sweatshirt, just in case.

She saw the clouds gradually gather overhead, blocking the sun's rays. The bus had been delayed by yet another three minutes.

It wasn't so dark that Eve couldn't see the three dark figures coming towards her. She felt her heart hammer against her chest, and clutched her stake desperately. As they came ever closer, she knew that there was only one way out of this. She couldn't run anymore.

Once again, she saw that familiar set of azure eyes twinkling as they caught sight of her. Eve gulped, and was terrified at what fate lay ahead of her. She was going to die fighting.

She brandished her stake, and rose to her feet, abandoning her bag. There was a silence during which people looked at them, confused. The vampire's faces transformed, and she realised vaguely that they were screaming. She wasn't allowed any time to overcome her wave of nausea before he aimed a punch at her face. She wasn't prepared, and flew through the air. Her body was flung against the wall. She felt blood trickling down her face and saw it dripping from her eyelashes, but the enemy didn't give her a second's rest. One of them aimed a kick at her bloodied face, but she was ready. She tripped him over, and plunged the stake through the attacker's heart. She then realised that the disintegrating face was the girl in the poster. She didn't have much time to dwell on this though.

She aimed a kick at one of the vampire's faces, then stumbled to her feet while they were down. She tried to remember what her Watcher had told her, during their brief training session. He had taught her about blocking punches. She experimented with this when a vampire aimed a blow at her head. He grabbed the arm which had meant to protect her and pulled it downwards. She heard a crack, and screamed as she felt stabbing pains coursing down her arm. She punched him extremely hard with her good arm, and knocked him to the floor. She clambored down managed to stake him as well.

She looked up, and realised that she was left, wounded, against the opponent that she truly dreaded.

A smile crossed his chalk white face. He knew that he was going to win, and as he started laughing every part of her wanted to wipe that smile off of his face, regardless of the fact that he was her brother.

She knew that she wouldn't be able to beat him by holding back remotely, even at the beginning. She had to cheat. She did the kick, which she had learned from the movies, and got him in his balls. Hard. He recoiled, pain etched in his disfigured face. She made the most of this opportunity and tried to stake him. He grabbed her broken arm though, and squeezed it as hard as he could. She could feel pain shoot through her where his hand touched her. Tears filled her eyes. She took a vial of Holy Water from her pocket and threw it right at his head, and the force of the throw broke the bottle. 

He screamed in agony, and let go of her arm. He clung his face, trying to rub the acid from it. She could hear a sizzling sound, and could smell the flesh which was being exposed. She tried to stake him again, but he was ready for it. He grabbed her by the neck this time, and slammed her against the wall. She was terrified by the look on his acid covered face. 

She tried to loosen his grip with her left arm, but it was impossible. Both of his hands were clamped around her neck, and she could feel herself dizzying as she was drained of oxygen. He leaned forward, exposing her neck, and she was too weakened to defend herself. She could feel two razor sharp fangs puncture her skin. Her vision was disappearing as she felt herself drift further away from the world. She saw blood cover her clothes, and heard the screams of the people watching. 

The last thing she saw the bus come into the station.


End file.
